


It Was a Rainy Day, And...

by monchy



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monchy/pseuds/monchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The place is awful, it keeps raining, and Mace is feeling rather low.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was a Rainy Day, And...

Mace looks up at the sky and sighs. It’s raining, and even if it only has been for the past week, Mace feels as if it has been doing so for years now. He hugs himself and looks forward at the growing amount of hurt bodies that lay before him, while the helping hands seem to diminish every day. They’ve been here for days now, and quite stuck at that. If they could reach the other side – _the bad guys_ – by surprise, they might just be able to go, but it seems that the surprise element has only managed to get them dead and hurt people so far.  
      
 A few steps away Quinlan has taken charge of the children, and is making sure that they have enough fantastic stories to last them a lifetime. His voice is kind of hypnotising, lulling even, and it makes Mace want to take a nap, even more with the continuous sound of the rain hitting the ground. But they need hands, so he will sleep later.  
      
He removes the mud that’s covering his left boot and walks towards Obi-Wan, who is a surprisingly good healer, and is bandaging a man’s arm. Not too far away, Skywalker listens to a few old men tell a long, boring story of some ancient battle he can’t possibly care about. There are a few other Jedi scattered around, most of them Healers, and some local women trying to help, but they aren’t nearly enough, a fact that the pained moans that surround them keep reminding him.  
   
“I need to make myself useful,” he announces, when he reaches Obi-Wan, and he gets a sympathetic smile in return. Obi-Wan doesn’t lift his eyes up, though, fixed as he is in a rather bloody wound. Nevertheless, he does see Quinlan waving at them, and returns the gesture. “Force, if you look at him, you’d swear we weren’t in the middle of a war.”  
   
Obi-Wan chuckles, shaking his shoulders the tiniest bit. Mace sighs, looking over at Quinlan, who smiles at him through the mass of curls that he has tied on a ponytail, but that insist on covering his dark eyes.  
   
“You look like you need a rest, Mace,” murmurs Obi-Wan. All too suddenly, deep blue eyes are studying Mace. “How long have you been awake, anyway? You should get some sleep.”  
      
He probably does, but he can’t quite bring himself to sleep these days. “No, I need to make myself useful.”  
      
Obi-Wan sighs, shakes his head and curls his lips in half a bitter grin, while his hands never stop working. It never ceases to amaze Mace the amount of things Obi-Wan can do at a time. “Go ask Luminara, then. She probably knows who needs more attention.”  
   
***   
  
Both Obi-Wan and Skywalker have disappeared, along with a few others, but Mace isn’t ready to leave just yet. He stands close to the tents, considering the safety of the base camp they have built, and then shakes his head. It’s still raining, and he feels as if he has been awake for ages (which really isn’t too far from the truth), but he wants to keep working. It ‘s what keeps him going on during wars.  
      
It has been far too long since he hasn’t gone on a field mission, and he has gotten used to sitting on the Council, discussing important affairs, and sending others to solve them. Then again, it had been his idea to come here in the first place. Quinlan had asked for reinforcements, and Mace had trotted along Obi-Wan and his former Padawan in no time. But he had been expecting a battle, not this.  
      
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Quinlan has the odd capacity of moving without being heard at all, but Mace can always feel the power of his Force signature before he manages to catch him by surprise.  
      
“I’ll admit it’s not the best mission ever.”  
      
“Tell me about it.”  
      
Mace looks at Quinlan then, watching him take a sip from his flask, not sure he wants to know what’s in it. He needs a drink. “How long have you been here, anyway?”  
      
“Three months, love.”  
   
Mace crosses his arms, visibly unhappy with the nickname, but chooses not to say it. He has been here for three weeks only, and he’s already tired of the pain, and the death, and the rain, and the mud. Everyone is, he thinks, and Quinlan is the only one who keeps his smile no matter what, even managing to make people laugh with a joke every once in a while.  
   
“You look like you need some rest there. Or at least to relax.”  
   
He’s right, but Mace doesn’t want to even to try to lie down, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep, and that will only manage to frustrate even more.  
   
“Or maybe you just need a drink.” Quinlan hands him his flask, pats him in the back, and offers him a smile before walking away. Damn him for reading him so well.  
   
***  
   
Mace feels restless, frantic and, above all, bored. It’s as if time has trapped him in this sad, muddy, rainy world, and he can’t get out, no matter how much he yells. Except he isn’t screaming, at least not _out loud_. Quinlan keeps looking at him as if he knew, and he probably does. Mace suspects everyone does in their own way. Wars are never easy, especially when you are forced to stay and take care of the collateral damage, rather than going out there and fighting. Force, Mace wishes he could kill something.  
      
Instead, he bandages another bleeding limb, almost managing to ignore the painful scream that comes from the person it belongs to. Soon enough there will be another limb and another scream, perhaps lower, perhaps higher. He isn’t holding up, and he knows it. Everyone looks tired, but they all seem to find something that makes them move on, and Mace doesn’t stop simply because he knows he will start throwing up the moment he does.  
      
Quinlan smiles at him while he fights against some bandages, and Mace can’t bring himself to answer the gesture. Quinlan pouts then, and Mace just shakes his head, going back to work.  
   
***  
  
 “I wouldn’t go in there if I was you.”  
   
Mace knows the world is coming to an end the day he thinks he should have listened to Quinlan. But truly, he didn’t need to see that. Hell, if he had to sit down and make a list of things he didn’t want to see _ever_ , Skywalker’s butt would probably be one of the first ones.  
   
“Told you so.” Quinlan grins at him, and Mace wants to punch him. Hard. But he opts for the more civilised choice of stealing his flask and taking a long swig of that bitter brandy he carries in, while letting the rain wash his tired features.  
   
Quinlan chuckles and Mace ignores him, getting off the rain and giving his muddled boots a disgusted glare, as if the leather would just get clean with that. He shakes his head, and looks at the horizon, where a few men limp from bed to bed, trying to comfort the ones who seem to be in more pain. The vision sickens him, and makes him give the flask back to Quinlan, who guards it under his robes. He should get back to work.  
   
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Quinlan’s voice hides a laugh behind it, and Mace chooses to glare at him instead of his boots. They have certainly done him much less harm that Master Vos has over the years.  
      
“I certainly didn’t need to see his… his… his…”  
      
“Butt? Ass? Arse? Rear? Buttocks? P–”  
      
“Quinlan!”  
      
Quinlan laughs again, and his eyes glint in a strangely devilish way. “I think it’s a pretty butt, but that might just be me.”  
      
“Really, to think that Obi-Wan and Sky–”  
      
“Come on, love! They’ve been at it for weeks now. I think it’s good; helps them relax, you know?”  
   
Mace stares at Quinlan, serious and raising an eyebrow, making sure his disagreement with the statement is clear. Not that he has a problem with Obi-Wan screwing whoever he pleases, but he really doesn’t need to know who, when, or in which position.  
   
“Maybe you need some of that to.”  
   
Mace leans back suddenly, opening his eyes hugely, and then walks away, because Quinlan did not just wink at him.  
   
***   
  
Mace isn’t quite sure how things got to this point, but he can’t really care right now. Or think for that matter, since having Quinlan’s head bobbing up and down between his legs, while sucking him as if his life depended on it, has proved to be rather distracting.   
  
He is quite sure he had been pacing, tired but feeling incapable of sleeping, completely soaked, and hearing Skywalker’s moans through the thin material of the tent, when Quinlan had come in, saying something about needing to relax. Things had gone downhill from there, pretty much. And he couldn’t quite complain, because Quinlan’s mouth looks all kinds of gorgeous around him, and his locks caress his thighs and he could be in Heaven right now.  
  
He moans, low and throaty, and he can feel Quinlan smiling, going faster, deeper, and licking at that spot that he knows gets that strangled sound out of him. He really hadn’t been considering the potential of Quinlan as a romantic partner all that thoroughly, really. He will have to take some more tests, though, just to be sure.  
  
He can hear the rain on the outside, and he knows he will have to go back to the grief later, but he can’t bring himself to think about it right now, when Quinlan’s hand is wrapped around him, and his mouth is leaving kisses on his navel. This is all too good to be thinking about any other thing at the moment, and _damn_ , but he hates it when Quinlan is right about something.


End file.
